Storing September

As we drank in the sights and sounds of a glorious September day on a recent Wisdom Prairie Walk, Sylvia Marek stopped to share the following poem, Storing September, which she said her mother often read to her. With deep gratitude for all the people and places that show us the way, inspire our hearts and souls, and work to preserve these places and moments of beauty, we share this poem with you:

Storing September

You ask me what I did today.
I could pretend and say,
“I don’t remember.”
But, no, I’ll tell you what I did today—
I stored September.
Sat in the sun and let the sun sink in,
Let all the warmth of it caress my skin.
When winter comes, my skin will still remember
The day I stored September.
And then, my eyes—
I filled them with the deepest, bluest skies
And all the traceries of wasps and butterflies.
When winter comes, my eyes will still remember
The day they stored September.
And there was cricket song to fill my ears!
And the taste of grapes
And the deep purple of them!
And aster, like small clumps of sky…
You know how much I love them.
That’s what I did today
And I know why.
Just simply for the love of it.
I stored September.